


The Question That You're Looking For

by Driftwoodsun



Series: Unable to Connect, Please Try Again [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But Yamaguchi Tadashi Won't Let Him, Figuring Things Out, Implied Asahi Azumane/Nishinoya Yuu, Implied Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Implied Tanaka Ryuunosuke/Ennoshita Chikara, M/M, Mentioned Azumane Asahi, Mentioned Ennoshita Chikara, Mentioned Nishinoya Yuu, Nishinoya Yuu & Tanaka Ryuunosuke are Bros, Tsukishima Kei Just Wants to Suffer in Silence, Tsukishima Kei is Bad at Feelings, Tsukishima Kei is Really Just a Big Adorable Nerd Who's In Over His Head, Tsukishima Kei-centric, Yachi Shows Up for Like a Hot Minute, Yamaguchi Tadashi Sees Right Through Tsukishima Kei... Most of the Time, Yamaguchi Tadashi is a Little Shit, Yamaguchi Tadashi's Freckles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 10:21:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27849278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Driftwoodsun/pseuds/Driftwoodsun
Summary: Tsukishima is so bad at asking Yamaguchi on a date that he may not even realize that that's what he's trying to do.Unfortunately Yamaguchi may not realize it either.
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Series: Unable to Connect, Please Try Again [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2168286
Comments: 6
Kudos: 91





	The Question That You're Looking For

**Author's Note:**

> Rated 'E' for rather explicit descriptions of desire in the first section. No real smut in this part, though.

Kei huffed softly and reached for his glasses on the nightstand beside his bed before throwing the covers off and standing up. He checked his phone, squinting against the harsh light of the screen. 4:53 am. He snorted. Once he cleaned himself off and changed his underwear, it would be after five in the morning. He may as well get up entirely. He made his way quietly to the bathroom, turned on the sink, and splashed water on his face.

He’d had more wet dreams in the several days since the incident at Shiratorizawa than he’d had in his entire life. He could never remember much of them. Soft brown hair. A quiet, familiar voice murmuring things to him that would have made the tips of his ears go red in the light of day. Gentle, caressing touches that could only be described as reverent. _Yamaguchi…_ in his own choked and broken voice, somewhere between demand and supplication. And then, at the end, always at the end, that look, _that look_ , and he was coming undone.

He sighed. Maybe he remembered quite a lot, actually. More than he cared to admit, anyway.

He stripped out of his t-shirt and boxer-briefs, tossing them in the corner with a small frown before turning on the water and stepping under the hot spray. Sighing again, he leaned his forehead against the tiled wall, closed his eyes, and let the shower crash over him.

Though the freckled boy had been more free with his affection, he and Tadashi had not gotten into a romantic relationship, exactly, in the several days since. Kei knew himself well enough to know that he wasn’t ready for that, yet. They hadn’t had any further sexual contact, either. They had held hands occasionally and touched more, but they hadn’t so much as kissed. He didn’t really know what they were, just like he didn’t know what to call his own sexuality at this point. For the longest time, it had been something he just hadn’t considered, or even thought about, really. He masturbated, of course, like virtually every boy his age, but he had always found it a distasteful, if necessary, act. Something to be done quickly and furtively in the privacy of the shower and to be immediately forgotten about once the evidence had disappeared down the drain. Now though… Now he was thinking about that sort of pleasure often and he was finding, to his dismay, that he was wanting many things, and wanting them very intensely. He wanted Tadashi to touch him and keep touching him. He wanted Tadashi to look at him. Distressingly, he wanted to be _seen_ by Tadashi, seen and still loved; he desperately, profoundly wanted that. But he also wanted Tadashi on his knees in front of him again. He wanted him to stay there; to realize that he belonged there. He wanted Tadashi to want to be there and to tell him that he wanted to be there. He wanted to purposefully draw that noise out of him, that Tadashi had made when he had accidentally pulled his hair before; the one that had his toes curling whenever he had thought about it since. He definitely wanted Tadashi to give him more orgasms; to be a good, diligent boy about it and give them to him over and over and over. If he was being honest, he supposed that making Tadashi orgasm probably wouldn’t be that bad, either. (Which was something that he had never thought about anyone, ever.) There might even be a small, disgustingly soft part of himself that actually wanted to be able to look at Tadashi in the nude, openly and unashamedly. To see and love _him_ , in the spare but deep way that Kei loved the few things in his life that he really cherished. That wanted to watch _him_ cum. That wondered what his dick, his balls, were like. Would he shoot a lot? A little? Would he be noisy? Silent? Shudder through it? Just close his eyes and shiver? Which of Kei’s names, if any, would be on his tongue? What kind of faces would he make? Would they be pretty on him? He wanted to see all of it, know all of it; to greedily drink in every detail of his best friend’s most intimate moments; to hoard them all, to never share them with any other living soul. It had occurred to him, belatedly, that he may actually want to possess Tadashi, the whole of him, just for himself, though that thought concerned him and he was not entirely sure what it implied. It had at least become clear in the last several days that he did _not_ like sharing him at all now. This too, was new.

It was as if the experience with the brunette had caused his emotions and his libido, so carefully constrained for so long, to explode messily and disgustingly. All he could do now was watch, distressed and repulsed, as they got on everything and everyone around him. Kei was both irritated and bewildered by it, especially since it was bad and strange enough to find himself wanting something, so many somethings, really, but it was also clear that his heart might actually like the wanting, and he was not at all prepared for that.

Groaning in frustration, he pushed off of the wall, and began to wash himself clean.

* * *

He arrived very early to the spot where he and Tadashi met when they walked together to morning practice. Music piped through his headphones while he waited patiently for the boy to show. Now, though, Tadashi was two minutes late and Kei had begun shuffling through his playlist; letting songs play for several seconds before skipping them and moving on to the next one.

The brunette turned the corner on the block some minutes later, his ridiculous ahoge bouncing with every step. He waved to Tsukishima when he saw him. The blonde raised his hand slightly to acknowledge the wave and let out a small huff of air as a knot of tension between his shoulders, one that he hadn’t even been aware he was carrying, bled away, replaced by the warm, glowing feeling that he had come to associate with Tadashi in the last several days. The one that he had first experienced when the boy had laced their hands together for the first time. The one that was so intense sometimes that it made it hard to breathe, the one that made him want to draw his lips into a smile whenever their eyes met. It was a feeling that he hated. It was also a feeling that he now had a difficult time imagining living without.

He slid his phone into his back pocket and took his headphones off as Tadashi caught up to him.

“Hi, Tsukki!” He said.

Tsukishima snorted, tugging on his fingers.

“You’re late.”

Tadashi cocked his head at him and frowned. “A few minutes. Not even ten.”

Tsukishima frowned back.

“Still. You’re late.”

Tadashi glanced down at Kei’s hands before looking back up at him uncertainly.

“Were you _worried_ about me? Are you… Are you _pouting_?”

The blonde made a horrified, flustered sound that Yamaguchi would have described as a squawk if he was a less charitable human being. Then he turned on his heels, shoving his traitorous hands into his pockets.

“Shut up, Yamaguchi. I’m going to practice. You can come with me. Or not.” He said over his shoulder as he began striding away.

“Sorry, Tsukki!” He hurried after his taller friend.

Kei could hear the grin in his voice. It made that warm, glowing feeling burn a little brighter. He closed his eyes in despair and tried to breathe through it.

* * *

“Tsukishima? … Tsukishima? … _Tsukishima!”_

“Hm?” he glanced over at Daichi, who stood next to him, gazing in the direction he had himself been a moment before. Tadashi and Sugawara were taking a break and talking lightly to one another off to the side of the court. Suga took sips from his water bottle, eyes lingering on Tadashi as the brunette rucked his shirt up to dab at the sweat on his face, revealing the casually suggestive dip of his navel and the toned plateau of his abs, themselves glistening with perspiration. His freckles dotting down densely along his sides, continuing to travel beneath shorts that had slunk low on his narrow hips during the course of practice, revealing the waistband of his grey briefs. The trail followed and curtained around the etch of his V-line while thinning out into virtual nonexistence over his midsection, only to continue along the muscled insides of his thighs until diminishing towards the lower portion of his sinewy calves.

Suga, noticing Daichi’s attention on him, lifted his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders slightly, the gesture clearly intending to convey the essence of the sentiment “Well, you can’t really blame me for looking, can you?” The pinch server himself seemed completely oblivious to the scrutiny his body was receiving.

Daichi sighed and rubbed a hand over his face before turning to the middle blocker.

“Oi, Yamaguchi has really grown into himself the last few months, hasn’t he?”

Tsukishima’s breath hitched.

“What? I don’t…”

The captain snorted lightly and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, Tsukishima. Listen, I need you working with Kageyama and Tanaka for the last half of practice. Tanaka needs to prepare for the kind of blocking he’s going to see at Nationals and Kageyama needs to be spending more time working individually with members of our offense who aren’t Hinata.”

“Okay.” He bowed his head slightly before walking off in the direction where the wing spiker and His Majesty were passing a ball back and forth, clearly waiting on him. He nodded to them both when he arrived and they took their positions on the court - Kageyama and Tanaka on one side of the net with Tsukishima on the other; Yachi waiting patiently behind him to fetch and cart up any of the spiked balls that he missed.

It turned out that she carted up a _lot_ of them by the end of practice.

Tanaka slapped him on the back, curling an arm around his waist as they were returning to the clubroom. “Dude, where are you at? I know you could have stopped more of those. I’m good, but I’m not _that_ good.”

“Sorry, I’m tired. I’ll be better tomorrow.”

The older boy gave him a lazy, reassuring grin and pointed finger guns at him. “You’d better be.” His attention shifted to their libero some distance in front of them. “Hey, ‘Noya, wait up! I want to get a melonpan before class starts! Come with me!” He left Kei’s side and hurried after the shorter boy.

“You know, if you paid more attention to the game and less attention to Yamaguchi, you’d be doing just fine,” Kageyama muttered. He said it like it was a simple fact, but the irritation was clear in his voice.

“Shut up, King. Don’t you have a tangerine you should be sucking on?”

The setter grimaced at the nickname before replying.

“No, why?”

Tsukishima snorted and shook his head.

“Kageyaaaaamaaaaa!” the setter let out a small ‘Oof!’ and stumbled forward as Hinata jumped onto his back.

“Get off of me, Hinata boke!”

“No! I won the race today! You have to carry me to class!”

“We have to get changed first, idiot!”

“Fine! Race me to the clubroom, then!” Hinata was off of the taller boy’s back in an instant and zipping towards the doors.

“Cheater! If I win this time, you have to buy me a box of milk!”

“Ha! Whatever, Bakageyama!”

Tsukishima blinked owlishly after them, wondering just how, exactly, this had become his life. And how it was that Kageyama was at least partially right about something that wasn’t volleyball-related for probably the first time ever. It was true that he had been hyperaware of, and distracted by, Tadashi during practice. That had been the case since the match against Shiratorizawa and he had managed to successfully deal with it for the most part. That is, right up until today, when he noticed Tadashi _being noticed._ By someone who was their senpai and vice-captain, no less. And, given Daichi’s earlier comment, possibly by their captain himself. He suddenly realized, with a low curl of shame, that it had never occurred to him, in the entire stretch of their long friendship, that other people might seriously vie for Tadashi’s attention, his ridiculously intense affection; might find him attractive and desirable enough to appreciate and offer him more than Kei could. Might, eventually, if they tried, drag the light of Tadashi’s gaze away from him and onto them. In some ways, during the whole time he’d known him, a part of Kei had always thought of Tadashi as that pathetic boy he had rescued from bullies so many years before, who needed him, and would always need him. He knew that things had recently shifted in their relationship; that he was suddenly and deeply disliking the necessity of sharing Tadashi with other people. This was different, though. It was a whole new level of vulnerability that he had never considered possible. The realization chilled him to his core.

Tadashi had always been one of the few givens in his life. Stable, dependable, reassuring, undeniable. But now, more and more, he was seeming like a necessity; a keystone to the person that he hoped he might become, that he might be able to prove to Tadashi that he could be. The thought of someone else actually competing with Kei for his affections was terrifying. It was an arena Kei had no idea how to compete in. It was an arena in which he was certain to lose.

* * *

Tsukishima stared at the bench while they changed, getting ready for class. He cleared his throat.

“Come over Saturday morning. We can finish homework early and watch documentaries all day. Maybe… maybe you can spend the night. We’ll hang out in my room and we can do whatever you want on Sunday.” He was tugging on his fingers again. Still refusing to look at the brunette, he took a deep breath and started folding his kit to give his hands something else to do.

“I can’t on Saturday. Asahi and I are practicing serves and receives with ‘Noya in the park. Hinata might come too.”

“Asahi-san, ‘Noya-senpai and The Little Idiot. All day?” He tried not to let the sharp spike of disappointment and anxiety that suddenly shot through him leak into his voice.

“All day, Tsukki. Asahi and I have a lot of work to do on our serves before Nationals, and you know that Hinata needs to work on his receives; he sucks on defense. Besides, I want to work with Asahi on learning the jump serve before he graduates and if either of us want our serves to be real weapons on the court we need to put in a lot more practice. And anyways…”

Tsukishima recognized the downward spiral of a ramble just beginning to start and interrupted him.

“No, you don’t. Your serves are great. You’re great. What about Noya-senpai? Why is he going to be there?”

“Well. He’s Asahi’s shadow.” Tadashi looked at him pointedly. “You know that. But who better to tell us if our serves are improving?”

“And The King and Tanaka-senpai? What will the Little Idiot do without half of his brain?”

Tadashi giggled; the sound drew a small, soft smirk out of Tsukishima despite himself.

“Mean, Tsukki. Kageyama has a family function to attend and Tanaka has plans with Ennoshita. They’re going to lunch and then some kaiju movie. They might meet up with us later.”

“We could have plans too, you know. Like… like Tanaka-senpai and Ennoshita-san.”

The brunette huffed.

“Tsukki. I need to practice. Do you want to come? We could use a blocker.”

“Do you really think that’s how I want to spend my entire Saturday? Hurry up and get dressed. We’re going to be late to class.”

“I know that’s not how you want to spend your entire Saturday, Tsukki. That’s why I didn’t ask you in the first place.” Tadashi muttered.

“ _What?_ ” He tried to conceal how deeply that stung, but was fairly certain that the hurt was plain in his tone, if not on his face.

“Nothing.” He sighed. “I’ll see you in class, okay?” Tadashi turned and walked away. Tsukishima stared at his back silently until the door was shutting behind him.

* * *

Hinata slammed his lunch down on the table. “Why is Yamaguchi all “BWUUUH”? What did you do to him, Saltishima?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Besides, what do you care, Shrimpy? You’re not Yamaguchi’s keeper.”

“No, but you are.” Kageyama towered behind the orange-haired boy, sipping nonchalantly on a box of milk.

Tsukishima tried, unsuccessfully, to quash the warm, intense curl of emotion that unwound low in his belly at that declaration; a strange, unfamiliar sensation that was half arousal, half satisfaction. _Say that again, King. I want to hear you say that again._

“Am I?”

“Yes.” The setter looked at him, puzzled, as if Tsukishima was seriously asking if the sky was blue.

The same warm curl unwound through him. He had expected that it would at least diminish, but if anything, it was more intense this time. He closed his eyes and breathed out through his nose, trying to steady himself. Distressingly, there was no longer any denying that he really did like the idea of possessing Tadashi. And apparently he liked other people recognizing and affirming that he possessed him even more. He hadn’t expected to have his suspicions confirmed like this, by the idiot duo of all people.

“Yeah! So what did you do?!” Hinata slammed the table again, with his palm this time.

Tsukishima stood up. “Careful, Shrimp, don’t you spike with that hand?”

“Where are you going?!”

“None of your business.” He glanced at Kageyama, who was eyeing him placidly while drinking his milk. “Yamaguchi isn’t a defenseless little waif, you know.” His voice was serious. The raven haired boy shrugged noncommittally.

“WHA?”

Kei shook his head at Hinata and headed off toward the bathrooms.

* * *

When it was time to walk home he put on his headphones and waited outside of the gym, shoving his hands in his pockets. He had studiously ignored Tadashi all practice, despite the fact that it was almost physically painful to do so. But now, shuffling through his music, he waited for him. Several seconds of one song, and then on to the next.

Once the boy emerged from the gym, Tsukishima set his playlist and they started towards home. Tadashi kept glancing at Kei, and then glancing away. And glancing at him. And glancing away. And glancing at him. And glancing away. The taller boy managed to ignore it for about a quarter of their route.

“ _What?_ ” He reached up and took his headphones off, setting them behind his neck. Tadashi surprised him by deftly linking their pinkies together as he went to put his hands back in his pockets. He swallowed and allowed it. The brunette had started doing this sort of thing fairly often in the several days since, showing Kei these small, quiet forms of affection that seemed distressingly fragile to the blonde; that always struck him as some sort of minor revelation, no matter how regularly Tadashi repeated them.

“You do know that I’d rather spend Saturday with you, right?”

“Of course I do.” His voice was as flat and disinterested as he could make it. Tadashi’s finger was unignorably warm.

Tadashi sighed and wouldn’t look at him. “You don’t know what it’s like, Tsukki.”

“What what’s like?” His voice was quiet. Taking his headphones off had been a mistake. He really didn’t want to be having this conversation.

“Always being the one who’s left out.”

Kei stopped and stared at him incredulously. “Are you kidding? _Are you kidding?_ You made plans with almost half of the team and didn’t bother to invite me, except as an afterthought.”

“That… That’s not… I wasn’t… It’s not something you want to do anyway.”

The blonde started walking again, their linked fingers prompting Tadashi to follow. “Maybe I would have, this time, did you think of that?”

“ _Do_ you want to? You still can.”

Kei snorted. “No. And that’s not the point.”

“Then what… what’s the point?” The brunette scratched the back of his neck with his free hand. “I was just... I didn’t… I didn’t want to ask and have you say no, like you always do with this kind of stuff, like you just did. _Twice_.”

“I would have said yes if you had asked me. _Just_ me.”

It was Tadashi’s turn to stop and stare incredulously. “ _Really_? You would have spent your _entire_ Saturday… practicing _volleyball_ … in the _park_.”

Tsukishima looked at him like he was stupid.

“What?”

“With _you_.”

Tadashi was silent for a moment. And then the tips of his ears started to tinge a rather pretty shade of pink, followed quickly by the rest of his face. Kei huffed and looked away, feeling his own face start to follow suit.

“Oh.”

“So… yeah.”

“Sorry, Tsukki.” Sincerity, rather than playfulness, lined the words now.

Kei rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Yamaguchi.”

“You know, my evening is still free on Saturday.”

Kei risked a glance at him. The dusting of pink on his cheeks behind his freckles hadn’t receded. If anything, it had deepened.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Tadashi hesitated. “Is this a… a date, Tsukki? Were you asking me on a date, earlier? Were you asking me to watch documentaries with you and _spend the night_ on our first real date?” He sounded amusingly scandalized. This time Kei didn’t need to hear the grin in his voice; he could see it.

He looked away again. He could feel the shade deepening on his own face as well.

“ _Shut up, Yamaguchi._ I said we could do whatever _you_ wanted on Sunday. _”_

There was no apology this time, just the tinkling of the freckled boy’s light laughter and a reassuring tug on the slim finger that joined them.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not the quickest at posting stuff, but more is on the way.


End file.
